When Tomorrow Comes
by enjolyrac
Summary: It's September, 2113. In a quiet seaside town, a girl is about to meet a group who will change her life. (Set in the future, and based mostly on the 2012 film - I haven't quite finished the book yet!)
1. Chapter 1

**"He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past."  
- George Orwell, '1984'**

The nicest way to spend a lunchtime at school, Danielle thought, was in the library.

Well, _the _school library wasn't a valid sentence anymore, she reminded herself as she watched endless lorries and cars pass by her family's small car on the motorway. The old school library was a better way to phrase it; she had no idea what her new school would be like.

Brushing her auburn hair out of her eyes as she peered out of the window, she tried to picture it. It would probably be a lot like her old school - Government-controlled, strict and dull. She hoped that maybe it would be different, but that most likely wouldn't happen.

She'd never moved house before, and it was a strange experience to leave everything she knew four hours away in her hometown. Her best friend Autumn was one thing she would especially miss, but the strong state presence was something she wouldn't.

She'd never liked the Government. Forty-four years ago, they had seized power of the country, and the monarchy had fallen. They'd shut out communications from most other countries except for trading, banned citizens from ever leaving the nation, and imposed harsh rules upon every man, woman and child. Or so she had been told. At the age of seventeen, Danielle was one of the 'state generation' - the children who had known nothing but the Government's rules. All she knew of the past was what she had learnt from illegal conversations with her parents about the taboo subject of 'the dark ages'.

"We're almost here!"

Her mother's excited exclamation jolted her out of her thoughts, and she immediately focused once again on the world outside the car window. Her heart skipped as she noticed the motorway had been exchanged for a quiet country lane, and in the distance, she thought she could see a pale blue cottage. Her new home.

Blue seemed to be a recurring theme throughout the house, Danielle noted as she stood in her bedroom two hours later, almost finished unpacking after the furniture had been put in place. The walls were blue, the surfaces were blue, and even the window frames were a pale shade of blue. So was the sea, which she could see from the window near her bed. Already she could feel the holiday-like, seaside atmosphere which seemed to seep into every corner of Seabreeze Cottage, and the warm sun on her back streaming through the window.

Suddenly, there was a tap on the door, and it opened to reveal her mother. With auburn hair the same shade as Danielle's and deep brown eyes, she didn't look a day over forty rather than the fifty years old she was. "Have you settled in? Dinner's in ten minutes."

Danielle nodded, smiling at her mother. "Okay, Mum. I'll come down to the kitchen once I've finished unpacking this box."

Her mother nodded back in reply, and closed the door once again as she headed down the stairs back to the main part of the cottage. From the homespun, picturesque state of the house, you would never guess that the town five minute's walk away was under so much scrutiny by the Government as it was.

Oceanport was a quiet town, one of the few in the nation that retained its rural charm after the state took control. Its main features were its beach, its shops, and its school - Plumet Secondary School. Danielle was to begin there tomorrow morning on the first day of term, the 4th of September, 2113. Her mother insisted it was a charming, picture-perfect school, and her father - who had visited in advance - had told her it was nothing to be worried about. But as a general rule, Danielle didn't trust other people's judgements. She was used to a life of being told what to think, and in every situation tried to keep her own opinion.

Her father had walked down to the fish and chips shop in the main high street to buy dinner, she discovered as she entered their new dining room. Her parents were sitting together, talking as they waited for their only daughter to join them, and they both stopped abruptly and smiled at her as she sat down. Their conversations that evening were mostly small, discussing their new home, whether Danielle had found her (unsurprisingly blue) school uniform in the box it had been packed into or not, and her father's new job at the textiles factory in town.

Every town had a factory. It wasn't unusual to find more than two or three in larger towns, and often tens or hundreds in large cities. Each county had to keep a certain amount of factories running, or the council would be fined and the Government would build new ones in empty fields, or just knock down homes to place one of the tall, foreboding buildings there. Most towns made goods to be exported to other countries - shipped on highly guarded planes by foreign visitors, to ensure no locals escaped the country - or food, or local produce.

Danielle's father sighed as he met her gaze. "You'll be there too soon." he said, his piercing blue eyes shining.

With a start, Danielle remembered. In three weeks, she would turn eighteen, and once citizens turned eighteen, they had to work in the factory nearest to where they lived for one day a week. Her older friends back at home had told her about it - the bosses were cruel, the work was hard, and they were treated like slaves.

Although, that's what most people seemed to be nowadays.


	2. Chapter 2

Endless glass windows were the first thing Danielle noticed of her new school. Every classroom seemed to be made of glass, and it wouldn't have surprised her if the floors, ceilings and students were all made of glass, too.

From the inside, it was clear that wasn't the case; not all the classrooms even had more than two or three small windows. Her form room was one of these, on the second floor, with a view of the sea. Having been taken there too early by an overly-enthusiastic teaching assistant, she was left to find a seat and get used to the surroundings.

Finding a seat was easy enough: no-one else was there to choose one. Getting used to the surroundings she now found herself in seemed relatively easy, too. The school was very similar to her old one, as most Government-run schools were. Tables and chairs were arranged in neat rows, all facing towards the board, and bright white lighting flooded the classroom.

Danielle was just looking around the walls for the usual security cameras, placed in each class to prevent any 'illegal' behaviour taking place - speaking badly of the Government, usually - when she heard the door open, and the rest of the class flew in, talking excitedly and greeting each other.

They barely seemed to notice her as they sat down in their seats, and the bell rang hardly a minute later. They were registered - some of the class looking round questioningly at Danielle's name being added to the list, before seeing her and vaguely acknowledging her existence - before being allowed to talk amongst themselves.

Danielle didn't expect any of them to talk to her, being too busy catching up with each other after the summer holidays, so she was surprised to see the girl in front of her turn around and smile.

She had brown hair, slightly wavy, and deep, dark eyes, and Danielle was about to smile back and say hello when the girl spoke.

"Haven't seen you around before!"

Danielle smiled, a little nervously. "That might be because I'm new here. I'm Danielle."

The girl grinned at her. "I'm Eponine. Count yourself lucky you've only got a year with this lot." She gestured towards the rest of the class, laughing, although Danielle noticed her gaze linger for a moment on a freckly, dark-haired boy in the opposite corner, talking to someone else.

The two girls continued to talk until the bell for first lesson rang, and Danielle hurriedly checked her timetable. Eponine glanced at it, before grinning. "Oh, you're in art with me. I'll show you the way."

Only too happy to have found someone who could be a friend, Danielle followed as Eponine led the way. One thing she noticed about this girl was that she never seemed to stop talking. The smallest things would set her off, a new stream of chatter from her new friend bringing a smile to Danielle's face. By the time they reached their classroom, she was quite sure she knew at least half of the school's history and most of the teachers' personalities.

Much of art was spent the same way, but in her second lesson, Danielle found herself alone again. Unlike before, no-one approached her, and she didn't want to interrupt their conversations; so she spent her time alone, until lunchtime.

After quickly buying and eating some food - the school lunches here were no better than those in her hometown, she discovered - she found herself sitting at a table in the corner of the library.

It wasn't that she was antisocial, or disliked spending time with people. She enjoyed others' company, and often spent time with her friends before she moved. She simply also enjoyed solitude.

And solitude she had, for most of her time, anyway. She was just checking the time to see how much longer she had, when she heard a quiet voice speak from what must be a metre or so away.

"That's a good book." it enunciated, and Danielle looked up to see the source of this statement.

This mysterious speaker wasn't what she expected, and yet they were. His sandy hair flopped flat onto his forehead, almost brushing the frames of his thin glasses covering eyes that Danielle thought were the exact colour of the sea. Green and blue and sparkling, all at the same time, and with a deepness she was ever so slightly intrigued by. The intense blue almost matched the shade of his glasses, which Danielle noticed kept slipping down his nose as he spoke.

"I think so too," she found herself replying, staring slightly at this boy's eyes. She looked away again quickly, feeling her cheeks heat up. Great, she thought, now I've probably freaked out the first guy I meet in this place. I'm not going to make many friends this way.

The boy only chuckled, sitting down in the chair opposite her and resting his forearms on the table. "I'm Combeferre, by the way."

"I'm Danielle."

And so the book was suddenly abandoned, discarded by the pair favouring to discuss school and classes and the town. "I think you're in my form this year...?" Combeferre inquired, which they discovered was true, and they also shared some classes. One of these was English, and this was scheduled for after lunch.

The bell buzzed, signalling the end of lunch and the beginning of their next lesson. Hurrying down the narrow corridors, with the book now remembered and slotted into a gap in Danielle's bag, discussed no further as Combeferre animatedly described the school from someone who had been imprisoned in it for five years' point of view. He skirted round his personal opinions of the school, for fear of someone overhearing and getting him into trouble, but his often bitter tone and occasional mention of things he wished there was gave a lot away. He quietened as they entered the class, with its silence and hostile atmosphere.

By the time an hour had passed and their lesson was over, Danielle had a new number carefully typed into her phone as they stood outside the classroom together, and a promise that perhaps the two of them could meet up and Combeferre could show her around the town.

"How about later this evening?" he had asked, seeming eager to act the tour guide. His enthusiasm was endearing, and despite him being a fair amount taller than her and his glasses reflecting the light terribly, Danielle could see his eyes sparkling.

"Sounds good to me." she replied, her own excitement being hinted at by her tone of voice.

"Great. How about we meet by the bus stop just outside school, say five o'clock?"

With two matching smiles that seemed to perhaps be made of sunshine themselves, the deal was made. And so, you could say, the story truly began.


	3. Chapter 3

Five o'clock couldn't come quickly enough for Danielle, but finally it did. It brought still-bright lights, the last of the summer reflected in the tiny waves of the sea, a comfortable evening breeze and a content-looking Combeferre leaning against the pole of the bus stop sign. He had changed out of his distinctive aquamarine uniform and into jeans (with more rips than Danielle perhaps would have expected) and a deep red shirt. The shirt complimented his eyes, even behind his glasses and from a few metres away, but Danielle pushed these thoughts aside and walked over to him.

"Good evening." Combeferre said as soon as he saw her, a lopsided smile easily gracing his face. Danielle found herself returning this without a second thought, or indeed even a first one; it simply seemed to appear from nowhere, along with her reply of "Hello!" that definitely did not come out higher than she wanted it to.

Combeferre either didn't notice or didn't comment, because he just grinned more widely and gestured for her to take his arm. "Might I have the pleasure of escorting you around town?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a faked Queen's English accent. Danielle, despite what her parents had told her of the monarchy that had long ago been discarded by the state wanting even more power, still hadn't quite figured out if this mysterious Queen had spoken in such an accent or not. However, this wasn't the time for politics, so she didn't say this and simply laughed, taking his arm. "Of course, good sir."

He laughed, leading her along the pavement and away from the bus stop towards the town. Perhaps it would have been easier to take the bus, but there was no reason not to enjoy the evening strolling around the town regardless of bus timetables.

Soon enough, they reached the centre of the little town, after gradually more populated roads winding into the town began to link up and shops began to appear. Combeferre explained each and every road name, which were all named after important members of Government or historical events of the local area and the nation. This wasn't unusual, and led to some interesting names such as 'Overthrowing Glade' in 'honour' of the state seizing total power, and the beautifully moving 'State Copse' simply highlighting the fact that the state were indeed everywhere. This street seemed to have numerous houses for sale.

"And of course, there's the village hall. That's named after the first total leader, Davidson." Combeferre hesitated, a spark of something Danielle couldn't quite place in his eyes, before continuing. "It's alright, but there's more to do in the other parts of town."

They had come to almost a halt outside a bakery, gazing into the windows at loafs of bread lying still and golden behind the thick glass. Or at least, Combeferre was; Danielle had found her gaze drawn to a door behind this shop, leading into a little brick section of the bakery with no windows and a hastily-painted 'Musain' in messy writing above the door. The paint had worn off slightly where rain and wind had weathered the paint, but even able to see the outlines of letters, Danielle could make no sense of this 'Musain' word.

"What's that?" she asked quietly, letting go of Combeferre's arm to step slightly closer in curiosity. However, she had barely taken a step when Combeferre's warm hand was holding onto her own, gently but firmly holding her back.

"Don't!" he said, and Danielle turned to face him. "I mean... I'll show you another time. It's not important." He coughed awkwardly, letting go of her hand.

Danielle eyed him suspiciously for a moment, casting one last glance back at the mysterious wooden door, before sighing and returning to his side without a word. Combeferre hurriedly began to talk about the bookshop on the other side of the road, his cheeks burning crimson, but his words were empty and evidently attempting to compensate for the previous situation. Danielle, although listening, couldn't help but wonder: what was that place?


	4. Chapter 4

The ensuing days turned into weeks, and these weeks seemed to both drag and fly by. The days were long and gradually colder, the skies darkening earlier and earlier each day, but the evenings were pleasant and often Combeferre-related.

His and Danielle's trips to the town became regular, them sitting by the sea on the soft sand or braving the strong winds to make a trek to the bookshop that Combeferre had mentioned in such detail on their first trip. It was in these places that their friendship grew, and in these places that Danielle began to doubt herself.

Now, she wasn't one for cliche, ridiculous love stories. She wasn't one for sitting sighing about her loved one, or singing softly to the sparrows in the garden about her inner torment for this boy with a crooked smile and glasses. But she found herself thinking of him rather more than was perhaps practical, wasting too much time wondering what might be and what could have been if she'd just done this differently or said that differently. It was ridiculous, yet addictive, her secret hobby when she was certain no-one was there to see her.

Soon, these weeks darkened and late November brought the familiar frost of winter. The mornings were bitter and the wind was harsh, and the sea was dark and choppy from dawn until dusk and probably well beyond even that.

But there was one glow in this cloudy winter for Danielle, for she finally discovered the true purpose of the little wooden door's room.

She had been walking in the town with Combeferre as usual, wrapped up in scarves and coats and woolen hats, when the boy had stopped just outside the bakery as he had done in their very first trip into town.

Danielle, thinking he was just particularly eager to buy a bun, tugged on his sleeve impatiently. "Come on, we can buy food in a minute, I wanted to show you-"

Combeferre shook his head, suddenly looking nervous as he looked around the town square. "No, this is important."

"I doubt Danish pastries are the most important thing in the world."

"No, this." Combeferre quickly pulled her down the side of the bakery towards the mysterious door, and Danielle frowned, her gaze fixed upon it.

"What's -"

Combeferre shushed her, looking around one final time before deeming the area safely empty and pushing open the wooden door with a creak.

It seemed to just be an abandoned hallway, dark and cobwebby, but the faint sound of laughter could be heard from somewhere further into the building. As they walked down the hall, where a light shone at the end of the passageway, it became clearer, but Combeferre stopped.

"I should explain." he began.

"Yes, you should."

Combeferre sighed, leaning against the wall for a moment. "I'm part of a group." he started slowly, enunciating each and every word as if he didn't want to say them. "We're... you know, the government..? Do you support them?"

Danielle hesitated here. This could get her killed, or worse, her family killed. It was a matter of how much she trusted Combeferre as to how she answered - and she found herself shaking her head a minute amount.

Combeferre looked visibly relieved, much to Danielle's mirroring relief. He shook his head, muttering something, before continuing.

"We're plotting against them, to put it the short way. Enjolras will bore you with the details once you're in - well, if you choose to join us."

There had never been better news in Danielle's life.

This government was the main cause of worry in not only her own life, but most others'. She dreamed of a day where every man, woman and child in the country would be free, to see the outside world unrestricted, to speak her mind and act her thoughts. A country where the citizens would be recognised as people, not working machines, and their thoughts valued for their worth rather than the family of the person behind them or their willingness to comply.

She nodded, a smile creeping onto her face.

And so she discovered the little room in which she would spend so much time in, in the future.

It was a small room, or so it seemed, but big enough to fit ten or eleven people all sitting comfortably at tables and drinking coffee or other warm drinks as they talked. Most of them were talking, laughing, or playing some kind of card game, but two boys sat alone separately in silence.

One of these boys looked rather cross. His blonde hair falling into his eyes on one side, he wore a red hoodie and a terrifying scowl, staring at the wall opposite him and obviously lost in thought.

"That's Enjolras." Combeferre said, seeing Danielle's gaze had fallen to him. "He's always like that. Well, either that or shouting, when he's not asleep."

Danielle assumed he was just a particularly grumpy member of the group, before Combeferre continued: "He has got a lot to worry about, I'll admit; this was his idea, and if we get in trouble, he'll be executed immediately for conspiring against the government. The rest of us might just get life in prison, or maybe hard labour, but he'll be shot."

On that cheerful note, Danielle looked around once again. The other silent boy looked cheerful enough, gazing around the room as Danielle was with inquisitive yet tired eyes. His black curls were messy, and his green shirt crumpled as he clutched a bottle of something Danielle didn't recognise.

This boy, upon meeting Danielle's gaze by chance, stood up with a mischievous grin. "Ah, look, my friends!" he called. "Combeferre has found himself a lady friend to bring to our fine establishment."

Both Danielle and Combeferre flushed scarlet at this, pointedly avoiding each other's gazes, and the rest of the boys in the room just laughed at them. All but Enjolras.

"Who is this?" he asked, and his voice was one that demanded attention. Combeferre coughed a little awkwardly in the newly formed silence in the air around them.

"Danielle is my friend and I thought, seeing as she shares some of our views, she may be interested in coming along."

Enjolras did not look impressed. In one smooth gesture, he indicated for Combeferre to accompany him outside and Danielle to stay, and they did so. In the absence of her friend, Danielle felt suddenly quite intimidated by all these strangers around her.

However, under the guidance of the boy in green (whose name was Grantaire) and another lively chap named Courfeyrac, wearing a bowtie and wild curls similar to Grantaire's, she was introduced to the others.

There was Jehan, with his wispy braid over one shoulder, but who also looked strong enough to knock even tall Combeferre out cold; Bossuet, who seemed constantly happy if a little clumsy, and was talking to another boy with short, dark hair. This was Joly, alternating between reading a medicine textbook and playing cards loudly with Jehan; there was Feuilly, with a cap rammed over his auburn hair and making a little paper swan; Bahorel, who was talking avidly about some kind of game with Feuilly; and finally a freckly boy named Marius who seemed to be in a constant daydream, but occasionally said something wise beyond his years or just something about a girl he'd met to Bahorel and Feuilly.

By the time Combeferre and Enjolras returned, the former looking relieved and the latter looking slightly less cross than he did before, Danielle was absorbed in listening to Courfeyrac's excitable chatter as the two of them watched Jehan and Joly play cards.

She may have only known them for five minutes, maybe ten; but already this little back room and its occupants felt like her home and family.


End file.
